


Your thoughts kill you, don’t they?

by MirrorNells



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: AU, Blood and Gore, Developing Sherlock Holmes/John Watson, Doctor John Watson, Dom/sub Undertones, Dominant John Watson, Enemies to Lovers, Established Mycroft Holmes/Greg Lestrade, Established Relationship, Fake Personality, Gore, Graphic Description of Corpses, Johnlock - Freeform, M/M, Mystrade in later chapters, Not Britpicked, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Serial Killer John Watson, Sexual Tension, Sherlock is a Mess, Tags May Change, Violence, Work In Progress, mystrade, villain AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-19
Updated: 2020-01-19
Packaged: 2021-02-27 11:47:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 541
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22316548
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MirrorNells/pseuds/MirrorNells
Summary: John Watson is a doctor with a seemingly normal life. Other then the fact prefers to use his skills in surgery to harm instead of help. With no criminal record and normal life, nothing is suspected until a mishap with the infamous Sherlock Holmes during one of the man's cases, and his victim.
Relationships: Mycroft Holmes/Greg Lestrade, Sherlock Holmes & John Watson, Sherlock Holmes/John Watson
Comments: 2
Kudos: 48





	Your thoughts kill you, don’t they?

**Author's Note:**

> I suck at writing so I apologize in advance!!! eugh   
> Im aiming for 4 chapters

‘Silence is the one friend that never betrays.’ Isn't that what they say? Regardless of if it's true, or, at least for Doctor John Watson it was true. People weren't quiet. People would talk, which was precisely why he didn't hang around them or made sure they were disposable. 

Now, despite the whole disposing of people who talked, words still got around. And even if that word was said to be more like a myth, it still posed a problem to Johns entire facade. Good thing for him, most people didn't believe Sherlock Holmes. 

The man in question was infatuating, but also hellbent on stopping John's murderous streak. Because of this, they'd actually met multiple times, the first time being when Sherlock, on police chase unrelated to him, caught him with a knife to the perpetrator's eye, full intent on taking it. 

Needless to say, it was an exhilarating way to meet. Seeing the tall man gasping for breath after a long chase, only to catch him in the arms of a criminal who no one had a single lead on. The man Sherlock found himself growing obsessed with. The one-man he couldn't catch, suddenly in front of him. 

John had recognized the look on his face and had given him a sinister smile in response, twisting the scalpel in his hand down and then up, taking the eye with it in a smooth motion before dropping the man to the ground and kicking him hard enough he got closer to Sherlock. Looking away towards the speared eye on the end of the small blade, before flicking it off and smashing it into the ground with a grin.

Sherlock's posture stiffened at that, and John felt himself stopping a smile. What a lovely reaction. John took a step forward, which caused Sherlock to brace himself, but John didn't attack. Instead, he leaned a bit closer and licked the blood of his weapon, staring directly into the taller man's eyes, watching his pupils widen. At that, John's own eyes widened and he grinned. All danger and teeth. 

“What a brilliant boy you are~,” He said, his voice dripping with a newfound possessiveness. Sherlock was quick to respond, even if his words were breathy.

“That man will never be able to see again” 

John laughed, taking a step back and turning on his heel, sliding the scalpel into a leather slip on the side of his boots.

“I know darling. That was the point” He said gently, starting to walk away from the scene.  
“If you still want answers, id take him to the hospital. He’s going into shock.” With a short wave, he walked into the oncoming fog, disappearing from sight as Sherlock leaned down to the victim's level.

Like John said, the boy, only around 18 and charged with murdering his ex-girlfriend after she reported him to the police for selling drugs to young teenagers, lay shaking, his face covered in his own blood as his eye gushed blood.

Sherlock sighed, looking back up into the fog, only to see nothing. It was tempting to chase after the man. The man who he’d been chasing for years, but he knew Lestrade would yell at him for leaving the perpetrator to die.


End file.
